The Detective and the Gangster
by lostsword
Summary: Special Agent Shikamaru Nara is about to be sent on the mission of his life. A new drug has been churning in the underworld of Suna and he is just the man the Hokage has in mind to find out who's behind it. Shikamaru's an experienced guy, good in a fight, and a talented spy. What could go wrong? The answer? The cuplrit's alluring sister! ShikaxTem GaaraxOC
1. Episode I: Briefing

_The Detective and the Gangster_

_Episode 1: Mission Briefing_

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NARUTO**

THUMP!

SMACK! SMACK!

He watched it all dispassionately; his teal eyes calculating the scene before him like a butcher weighing the amount of meat he could get out of a dying cow. It was sad really, how the man before him was going to die. He had been so promising, so creative, but he had crossed one too many lines...

"G-g..." The dying man sputtered, only to be hit violently again. Silk red blood spilt from the man's mouth briefly before he was yanked back into a semi-erect position.

With a nod, the orchestrator of the entire event signaled the men holding the dying man up. The guards grunted and tossed the beaten form into a large metal cage. The cage swayed violently back and forth as it was sealed, and then locked by one of the two burly guards.

"G-g..." The dying man tried to say, only to fall silent as the piercing teal eyes met his. The cold, calculating eyes stopped all defiance, executed all resistance. There would be no arguing with this man; the dying man whimpered softly.

"Light him," came the soft, velvety tone from the orchestrator. Again, one of the guards grunted before preforming the assigned task. With an almost fluid motion the guard drew a silver lighter from his jacket and flipped it open. The man started to make a final protest, however it was already too late; the flame from the recently ignited lighter sparked with the fuel coating the entire metal cage.

Gaara No Sabaku watched with no apparent interest as his closest associate, perhaps his only true friend, burned alive above Suna's moonlit streets.

* * *

It was a brisk Autumn morning when a sleek black truck pulled into the parking lot of a nondescript stone building. Said building had only one door and not a single window; the only thing that made the building stand out from the other dozen or so stone buildings was a sign that read "TOILET".

The owner of the truck quietly slipped out of the vehicle and slid his hands into the well-worn pockets of a faded pair of jeans. Walking up to the building with a casual air, he replayed the conversation in his mind that had happened after Naruto had placed that particular sign over the doorway. Apparently the Hokage wasn't a huge fan of jokes...

Taking the cigarette out of his mouth and dropping it onto the ground, the man placed one of his sneaker on top of the nicotine filled tube and ground it into the concrete before opening the door to the stone building. The inside was just as spartan as the outside; there was a simple wooden counter, a doorway at the end of a blank hallway that was opposite of the entrance, and a couch across from the counter that was to the right of the hallway. He noticed that there was a man with silver hair sitting on the couch reading a book and a young kid, a _Genin_, standing behind the counter looking at a magazine.

"She's expecting you," the _Genin_ said without looking up at the man that had just walked into the office, as protocol dictated when speaking to a _Jonin_. The man grunted lazily as he walked by the kid and headed towards the lone door at the end of the long hallway. Once he reached the end of the hallway, he stopped and knocked respectfully.

"Get in here!" A feminine voice barked from the other side of the door. Great, she'd been drinking...

"Agent Nara, reporting as ordered," Shikamaru said calmly as he entered the inner office. The room had the same spartan appeal that was the norm with everything else associated with the building. There was a large, paper laden desk at the back of the inner office, to the left there was a large, marker stained map, and to the right there was a book shelf loaded down with volumes of books. Behind the desk was a large metal safe with an eight digit code and hand dial combination on the front; which was hanging open, revealing more papers with red markings. Tsunade rarely used her office at ANBU headquarters, thus she didn't care to decorate it too much. Plus, in their line of "business", it was better to remain inconspicuous.

"Sit," Tsunade snapped and took a long swig from a bottle wrapped in cheap paper. Shikamaru scowled, but did as he was ordered. The Hokage stared at Shikamaru for a moment before she shrugged and pounded down more sake. "You look awful," Tsunade commented as she belched in his face. "I figured you would be ecstatic that she got married."

"What's the mission?" Shikamaru said calmly, but his eyes were hard. He didn't want to talk about last night. He didn't want to think about _them_ right now. What he _wanted_ to do was go on a mission and kill something. Preferably a _lot_ of somethings.

"Shika..."Tsunade said softly. "You can't it forever."

"Tell me what the mission is, or I'm _gone_," Shikamaru said coldly, all attempts at being civil were over. He wasn't Naruto or Jiraiya; he couldn't just snap at her at will, but right now he really didn't care if she was the single most powerful being in the entire city. He _did not_ want to talk _them_ right now.

Tsunade's face softened and she nodded, "alright, but if you want to talk-" she stopped at the first sign of his growl. "Alright!" She complained and rose from her desk, noticeably a bit tipsy.

"The mission is a two part op," Tsunade explained as she walked around him towards the map that hung on her left wall. "The first part, obviously, is going to involve reconnaissance," she said as she pointed at a large city sitting deep in the belly of a massive desert.

"I'm going to Suna?" Shikamaru asked calmly. The Nation of Fire hadn't sent operatives into the capital of the Nation of Sand since the Glass War. That had been a _long_ time ago.

"Yes, sadly." Tsunade said as she turned to face him, "Have you ever heard of Desert Flower?" Tsunade asked as she reached into one of the many pockets hidden inside her long green robes of office.

"Yeah, it's a white flower with a tan stem. Makes a great air freshener," Shikamaru said as he watched his boss pull out a medium sized plastic bag that was packed full of a tannish powder.

"That's what it _used_ to be," Tsunade said as she handed him the plastic bag. "As of a week ago, Intelligence found out it's _also_ a major hallucinogenic and psychoactive drug."

In response, Shikamaru raised an eyebrow while he emptied a small portion of the substance into his hand. He was momentarily surprised at just how soft it felt, it was almost _surreal_ how powdery the substance was. Noticing his look, Tsunade smirked slightly, "I know, I thought the same thing when I examined it," she said as she walked back towards her desk and reached inside the open safe that sat behind it. "Your full briefing is inside this packet, but I'll skim through the basics for you."

Tsunade paused as she collected her thoughts and then began her lecture. "For an unknown amount of time, Suna has been supplying a recently discovered, chemically treated, hallucinogenic and psychoactive drug to an unknown number of people. This drug has been confirmed to be known as Desert Flower and is apparently the strongest hallucinogenic _and_ psychoactive drug on the market.

We, Intelligence, have discovered and confirmed the sale of Desert Flower in three separate nations—the names are in your packet—beside the Nation of Fire. We do not know yet if this is a government backed operation or if this is strictly an underground operation by whatever is left of the Suna drug lords.

We _do_ know that one of the current salesmen in Konoha is Gan Manaika, so you can start there if you want," Tsunade paused briefly to let everything she had just said sink in. "Again, this is a _reconnaissance_ mission," she said with a pointed look at Agent Nara. "_After_ we have located the culprits behind this whole thing and have substantial evidence against them, and only _after_," again, a pointed look at an innocent looking Shikamaru, "will we move on the the target in force." She eyed him once more, Shikamaru hoped privately it would be for the last time. "Please remember that I want you back in one piece, do _not_ engage anyone unless you are _absolutely_ _sure_ you have the advantage. And even then, be careful."

"Yes mother," Shikamaru said calmly as he rose and took the offered folder from the Hokage's hands. "I'll check out Manaika, then I'll report back, don't worry," he said, smirking, before heading towards the door. "Try not to kill Naruto, he's waiting outside expecting to sneak in here as Kakashi," Shikamaru told her and watched a devious grin cover her face.

"Tell him to come in then, thanks," Tsunade told him before heading over to her desk and sitting down.

"Will do," Shikamaru told her and wiped a matching grin off his face as he opened the door and returned to the office/lobby. "Hey Kakashi," Shikamaru said to the silver haired agent. "She said to let you on in," he explained and watched the older agent close his pornographic book, grunt, then get up and head towards the door at the end of the hallway. Shikamaru, knowing better than to hang around the Hokage's office, headed towards the entrance. He hadn't even turned the doorknob fully before a loud splash could be heard followed by swearing.

"BAA-SAN! IT TOOK _HOURS_ TO GET THIS OUTFIT RIGHT!" Naruto cried pitifully as he stood dripping wet in the doorway of Hokage Tsunade's inner-office. The silver wig was now a wet mop of hair, which suggested Naruto had probably glued it to something to keep it from falling off. The tan skin paint was melting off of the youth in waves and the faded, worn out jacket that Kakashi always wore was now completely ruined. This produced an even louder shriek. "THIS WAS HIS _ACTUAL JACKET_ BAA-SAN! HE'S GOING TO _MURDER_ ME!" Naruto cried, sounding very much like a little girl as he stared in justified horror at the ruined jacket. Shikamaru was smirking as he left the outer-office at long last and was almost to his car when he heard an even louder shriek. "DON'T YOU _DARE_ SEND HIM THAT VIDEO!"

Giving up, Shikamaru collapsed onto the ground and broke out laughing.

* * *

It was several days later when Shikamaru found Gan Manaika eating at a ramen stand. The man was in his mid thirties, however his hair was already mostly gray, which led Shikamaru to guess he was under a lot of stress. The drug business would do that to you. Gan was wearing a simple sweatshirt and jeans and was casually slurping up the remainder of his meal when Shikamaru walked into the stand and paid for two more bowls.

"Can I help you?" Gan asked, his tone slightly unpleasant as he stared at the man that had suddenly decided to eat right next to him when the entire stand was all but empty.

"Yeah, actually, you can," Shikamaru said in his most pleasant voice, which wasn't very pleasant. "My girlfriend and I have been fighting," Shikamaru said as he placed one of the two ramen bowls that had just arrived before the drug dealer. "And I _really_ need to just forget about it for awhile," he said and slid an additional wad of cash across the counter towards the man. "I was told you could help me out," he added.

"That so?" Gan asked as he stared suspiciously at the bills and the food. "Who told you?" he asked, not having moved a single muscle towards the offered money.

"You think I'm going to mention names _here_?" Shikamaru said incredulously as he glanced quickly at the cook that was behind the counter preparing meals and the couple eating at a table less than ten feet away.

Gan grumbled but nodded in agreement, "fine, let's go see what I can do," he said before taking the money and paying his bill. He did not touch the offered second bowl. Shikamaru, leaving his own food also untouched, followed Gan out of the stand and onto the streets of Konoha. The two men walked quietly until Gan suddenly turned off the street and into an empty alleyway that ran between two apartment complexes.

"Alright, how much do y-" Gan started to say as he turned to face Shikamaru, only to receive a fist straight to the face. Staggering backwards, Gan barely had enough time to react before a well placed knee strike took his breathing from him and sent him flying into a nearby wall.

"Y-you..." Gan struggled to say as he attempted to stand up, however Shikamaru delivered another brilliant punch and knocked Gan back into the wall. Any further movements by the drug dealer were halted at the sound of Shikamaru drawing his sidearm and cocking the action.

"You have _exactly_ ten seconds to tell me as much about Desert Flower as you can, or I kill you where you are," Shikamaru said coldly as he aimed the pistol directly at Gan's forehead; Gan swore at him. "Your choice," Shikamaru said an lowered thd calmlye pistol and fired off one round into each of Gan's legs. Clutching at the bullet holes in both legs, Gan, instead of swearing, spat—and missed—at Shikamaru. Two more bullets, this time one in each arm.

"Alright!" Gan screamed, both out of pain and out of rage, "but don't think this makes any difference, _He'll_ get you in the end. Just like He get's everybody!"

"Talk," Shikamaru said and shouldered his firearm, he knew when he had broken someone and when he hadn't. "I'll give you medical treatment when you're done."

"Oh that's rich!" Gan cried, "heal me up so He can kill me himself, that's genius!"

"Talk," Shikamaru said coldly.

"Okay! Okay..." Gan said, still fighting the pain, "All I know is that the shipment comes in Tuesday nights, I take the stuff and hand over the profits. The guy that brings the drugs takes the cash and goes somewhere, I don't know where! Honest!" Gan informed him as he tried to stop the bleeding, however it was rather difficult considering that all of his limbs were numb from the bullet wounds in each.

"Is there anyone else in the city selling this stuff?" Shikamaru asked as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small metal cell phone.

"No, just me...they didn't want to risk a big operation getting smoked," Gan said, still in pain, as Shikamaru hit him with a perfectly aimed kick. The criminal collapsed, out cold before he had even hit the ground.

"Get me Ibiki Morino please."

* * *

**Lots of bits of Naruto facts in here, hope someone can identify them all. I am very curious if anyone knows who Ibiki Morino is and what the meaning behind the Glass War was. Also, for those of you that didn't know, my VERY FIRST fic EVER published on FANFICTION was a Naruto story, so this is something I am really excited to bring back into my writing life. Naruto is one of the best fanfiction areas to write in. So many possibilities and so many characters.**

**Any who, this is going to be mainly ShikaxTem, which was also the FIRST PAIRING I ever wrote on fanfiction. I'm tearing up if you can't tell. I MIGHT add in a Gaara romance somewhere, just because Gaara is my favorite character of all time. Feel free to request others, fight over them, whatever you want.**

**Please let me know what you think in a review and PLEASE SUBSCRIBE to my Blog and Facebook accounts. I'm trying to branch out—midlife crisis I guess—and I would really like it if my (recently revived) Naruto fanbase would help out in the subscribe/like count.**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter, Episodes come out every Monday! (might change to Tuesdays or bi-weekly based on work schedule and reviewer/subscription rate)**

_**Lostsword**_


	2. Episode II: Meeting the Locals

_Episode 2: Meeting the Locals_

Shikamaru Nara, ANBU trained commando and special agent extraordinaire, sat quietly at the back of a rusting bus while it moved—more like rumbled—down a street in downtown Suna. The city was quiet and the street lights above were all at half power or shut off entirely and thus cast the "city of sand" into a multi-layered, thickly shadowed apparition of a demonic graveyard.

The bus continued down the deserted streets without encountering a single being, living or otherwise. It eventually came to a jolting stop at a battered and graffiti peppered stop sign. Shikamaru signaled the driver, who looked like he was about to pass out, and exited the rusty death trap after paying the bus fare.

Sticking his hands in his pockets, Shikamaru walked aimlessly down several blocks before stopping at a large motel with the words "Golden Jewel" in ill maintained, badly flickering neon lights. Most of the windows were cracked, those that weren't were busted open outright. The walls had mold growing on the _outside_ and there was an extremely unusual smell wafting outwards towards him from the front doors.

"Seems homey enough," Shikamaru said to himself as he lit a cigarette and walked into the rancid establishment. The inside was worse than the outside.

The walls were peeling, the floors were scratched and bent—some of the nails were even gone or were sticking up from the floorboards. The occupants, if they could be called that, were gulping down a variety of drinks from a multitude of dirty mugs. To one side of the room sat a large television that was broadcasting live the Suna-Kiri martial arts tournament, a bitter match given the two nations rivalry. Directly opposite of the television sat a gambling table—around which sat several greasy figures in coveralls and several figures in hoodless robes as they played a slightly modified version of five card stud called Sökö. Between both forms of entertainment was a bar and front desk combination that was set up against the far wall opposite the front entrance. A tall, bald headed man stood behind it mixing drinks while also keeping one firm eye on the gambling table and another on the television.

"Room for the night," Shikamaru said plainly as he sat down at the bar. The bartender finished preparing whatever concoction that had been ordered and slid it over to a female at the far end of the counter who had already had _far_ too many drinks. Whether it was because of her exotic hair style or her...well, _ample_ curves, Shikamaru found himself staring. To Shikamaru's surprise, she actually winked at him while giggling under her drink. He turned away redder than Hinata when Naruto had kissed her the first time so many years ago.

"I'd avoid that one," The bartender warned as he looked with something that seemed like a mixture of pity and annoyance at the wasted female at the end of the bar. "She's _deadly_," he said, completely serious as he handed Shikamaru a room key.

"Every women I ever meet seems to be," Shikamaru said softly as he paid the man with currency from the Nation of Earth. No need to give away any hints about where he was from. The man still eyed him funny, but shrugged and placed the hard coins in the register before fixing the lady at the end of the bar another drink.

Shikamaru shrugged and walked off towards the doorway that led to the bedrooms. He had to walk down a short hallway, then up a flight of steps, and then down another hallway to a small door, but he found his room with less trouble than he normally did on missions.

The room was, like every room he ever purchased for any amount of time, completely barren of anything but the standard furniture that most decorators deemed to be _absolutely_ necessary for any bedroom ever designed. Upon entering, Shikamaru immediately noticed the nondescript bed on the right wall with a battered nightstand next to it that held a broken lamp. Across from the bed was a shattered mirror, the shards were still on the ground. The far wall was completely gone and in it's place was a poorly constructed balcony that had barely enough space to look out, much less stand on. Between the balcony and the bed was a badly dented piece of cloth that Shikamaru guessed was supposed to act as a doorway for the bathroom. Closer inspection of the bathroom revealed that it held a toilet missing it's top lid, a rusting sink that was missing it's wooden panel stand, and a shower/bathtub combo that was sporting a combination of rust, mold, _and_ blood.

Sighing, Shikamaru turned on the shower before returning to his room. Taking off his pack, Shikamaru quickly unloaded said pack and quietly stowed away his various possessions. Once he had hidden everything he thought might be useful into one of the many crevices or cracks that lined the inside of the room, Shikamaru pulled several explosive charges and hid them throughout the room as well. In his line of business, it was better safe than sorry when it came to the enemy surprising you. There was actually a rule written in ANBU headquarters for this sort of thing.

_RULE ONE: IF CAPTURE IS UNAVOIDABLE, BLOW UP._

That always weeded out any wimps that somehow got selected for ANBU training. The first thing they had to do was memorize the rules of the organization—and they were _extensive_—and that rule generally took ninety nine percent of the candidates out that might have dropped anyways.

Washing up the grime and grit from his face—his trip from Konoha to Suna had consisted of a six hour flight and then a two hour bus ride—before stripping off his dirty clothing, shoes, and jacket. That done, the special agent drew his sidearm and entered the bathroom.

Leaving the weapon on the top of the toilet next to the shower, Shikamaru stepped into the slightly less grimy tube and unthinkingly turned the water all the way up. The fact that it was surprisingly cold in the desert at night was the last thing Shikamaru thought before the new water tempearture hit him.

"OWWWWWWWWW!" He screamed in mutual levels of pain and shock as the, literally, boiling water from the shower head befell him in a pulsing gush of water. The special agent banged against the glass door comically and then the cracked stone wall—at least he _hoped_ it had been cracked—before finally escaping the deadly shower. He should have remembered how hot the water must be in Suna. Cold water was considered an _extreme_ luxury here. To his great frustration, Shikamaru found that he had somehow busted the handle on the shower, rendering it stuck on the hottest setting until repaired. Shikamaru groaned.

Deciding that he really didn't have the energy to deal with the shower, Shikamaru grabbed his pistol and returned to his bedroom, where he was fully prepared to go to sleep. But of course, a couple one room down just _had_ to announce to the world just how _energetic_ their feelings were for each other in increasingly loud tones. Swearing loudly at the sudden—and to be fair, unintended—reminder of what he had possibly lost, Shikamaru hammered on the wall long enough to add to the dents already coating it.

Deciding that the gods hated him, Shikamaru slammed his fist into the wall once more before pulling on a pair of trousers, slipping into his sneakers, and then finally grabbing his jacket and pistol. He turned off the lights to the motel room and grabbed his room keys before slamming his door and storming down the hallway. He all but flew down the stairs and was returning to the lobby in record time.

"Something wrong with your room?" The bartender asked as he fell back onto the bar stool for the second time that night. "We don't give refunds here," he warned as he sent a drink down the smooth surface of the bar. It was probably the only smooth surface in the entire establishment.

"I need a drink..." Shikamaru told him wearily as images assaulted him. Her blond hair, her smile...

Shikamaru shook himself violently; he did _not_ need her. He did _not_ care...

"This stiff enough for you?" the bartender asked in the thick western accent that all of the Wind people seemed to talk with. It was like smooth butter being poured over flaking coal chunks. Wow, he really needed a drink.

Nodding to the bartender, Shikamaru took the drink and hammered it down like his father had taught him. Asuma had taught him how to smoke, his dad had taught him how to drink. Now if Tsunade could share hot to get laid so quickly he would be all set. Huh, Suna had some strong stuff...

"I'm impressed," the baretender said sincerely. "Never seen a _anyone_ down one of those _that_ fast, much less at a _foreigner_."

"I'm not anyone," Shikamaru said as he made a gesture for another round. "That's actually pretty good," he said as the glass was refilled and he took another swig, downing the second glass easily and probably faster than the first.

"Best liquor in Suna," the man assured him before turning back to the other customers at the bar. Shikamaru ignored him for the rest of the night and proceeded to get as drunk as possible.

"_Wasted up to your eyebrows is about the only thing that can cure heartache son_," his father had once said. Turns out he was right.

* * *

Shikamaru wasn't sure how he had made it from the bar at the back of the—now dimly lit—motel lobby all the way over to the gambling table. He wasn't sure how long he had been drinking or the quantity. He wasn't even quite sure what game he was playing anymore. All that he _did_ know was that he was winning, and by several thousand ryō too.

"Raise," someone said at last as chips were stacked a bit higher and cards were dealt out. The few remaining players that were sitting at the table glanced at their cards and waited for their turn. Shikamaru, who was first, drained what was left of his mug and mustered the strength to confidently push four large stacks of bright blue chips forward. Several gasps echoed around the table as the dealer paled.

"Raise," Shikamaru said before burping loudly. The man closest to Shikamaru folded, as did three others. The only one that didn't fold matched him and the final set of cards were dealt out. The two men stared at their respective cards and waited.

After an unbearably long pause, Shikamaru spoke, "call," came the quiet statement, but like a sandstorm forming distantly on the horizon, there was far more danger to that one word than one might originally think.

The man across from Shikamaru flipped his cards over, revealing a king, queen, jack, ten, and a nine all neatly arranged in a row. All were bearers of the same card suit; the drunk man's grin was threatening to circle around his neck and form a circle. "Ya looose! Eh, stupid Earth rat!" the man spat, scowling at him as he reached to drag the massive pile of chips towards him.

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow, smirked, and then flipped his cards over. The entire table gasped yet again and stared in wonder at the cards lying before Shikamaru. Ace...king...queen...jack...ten...

"Royal flush," Shikamaru said calmly and collected his winnings, which was over eight thousand ryō.

On the other side of the table, the drunken man's face went through several changes rapidly. Shock, disbelief, and rage flashed across his face before finally becoming black with rage. "I...I _kill_ you!" He sputtered and lunged across the table; Shikamaru, through _thoroughly_ wasted, managed to deck the man in the center of his face and watched as he flew backwards and comically crash into a pair of men that had been watching from behind. He'd have to thank Lee for teaching him the "Drunken Fist" technique.

"CHEATER!" The man roared in a drunken rage as he and his friends jumped up from their heap on the ground and charged Shikamaru. The special agent merely grunted and kicked the table out from under him. Multi colored chips scattered everywhere as the metal table flew into the leader of the trio.

The man screamed wildly as the table crushed his waist and legs, it's weight easily greater than his own. The other two men paused only momentarily, but that was all Shikamaru needed; his right fist sent "drunken friend number one" to the floor and his left sent "drunken moron number two" down with him. At the end of the entire fight,—which lasted less than ten seconds—Shikamaru glanced at the terrified dealer and the three men that were glaring at him with unhidden hatred.

"Anyone else care to take a shot at me?" Shikamaru asked as he drew his pistol calmly. No one moved, all eyes were on the gleaming pistol held casually in the odd foreigner's palm. "Good," Shikamaru said calmly and pointed at the door with his gun, "_scram_," he told them and watched as they dug their buddy—who had already passed out—from under the table before fleeing from the establishment. Shikamaru noticed the rest of the motel's occupants either fled to their rooms or to the street, no one wanted to be in the same room as a drunk from the Earth lands who was waiving a gun around.

Stalking over to the bar once again, Shikamaru placed the pistol on the counter and banged his glass against the polished wood impatiently. "More," he complained sullenly as he thought about picking up his winnings that were scattered throughout the lobby floor. Nah, too much effort was required.

"Your paying damages," the bartender said gruffly as he refilled Shikamaru's glass. The man noticeably did not appear to be scared or worried by the gun or Shikamaru's actions. He seemed perfectly at ease in fact, Shikamaru reluctantly respected him for that fact.

"M'kay," he said as he pressed his cheek down onto the bar and looked at the bubbles forming in the richly colored liquid inside the glass mug. After a few seconds he noticed there was something even _more_ interesting sitting next to him. Or rather, two very _curvy_ somethings.

"Like what you see handsome?" an incredibly silky voice asked as Shikamaru finally got his eyes above chest level. It was the girl—no, _woman—_from before that had been drinking far too much. She was even _more_ wasted now, however, Shikamaru wasn't in a very good position to argue this point given his current condition.

"Yeah," He said huskily as he took in her face for the first time. She had that weird, exotic looking four ponytail hair style that just _suited_ her. And her skin was somehow shockingly—yet also _alluring_-pale for someone from the Wind country. Her emerald green eyes were somehow both smoldering _and_ freezing. "I'm in love," Shikamaru said, the heavy Suna drink on his breath mingling with the same scent on her own. When had she gotten that close?

"Ditto pineapple head," She whispered in a sexy little drunken accent before throwing herself on top of him as her mouth quickly claimed his.

"Temar..." the bartender started to say, only for the pistol to be leveled at him while the blonde haired woman ravished the man beneath her using the wooden stools as a support. "Okay then, you too have fun..." he said calmly before locking up the liquor bottles and heading for his office. If Gaara was going to kill anyone, it was going to be the foreign guy. He had done as instructed, should such an incident happen. Besides, maybe she would be a little more relaxed after getting some sack time. Or maybe she would kill everyone. He honestly didn't care so long as he wasn't anywhere in the vicinity when Gaara found out.

* * *

**Wow, only two chapters in and I ALREADY have the main couple together...I thought I would hold out longer...ah well.**

**Review and let me know what you think! Please like the Facebook account and subscribe and comment on the Blog (links to both are on my profile page)**

**Hope you enjoyed the second episode, see you next week!**

_**Lostsword**_


	3. Episode III: Good Morning

_Episode 3: Good Morning_

_Ugh_. That was the only thing Shikamaru Nara could think of at the moment as he slowly regained consciousness. As his eyes focused blearily on the features of his hotel room, Shikamaru realized three things. One, he felt like a brick building had decided to collapse on him. Two, somebody had to be detonating explosive tags inside his head, because it hurt worse than Tsunade's head-smacks. Three, he wasn't the only one in the room.

With a sense of well known foreboding, Shikamaru glanced to the right and, confirming his fears, he found himself tightly wrapped around a warm bundle of flesh and blonde hair. Shikamaru promptly said several words that would have seen his mother kicking his sorry corpse out onto the street.

_She's not that bad looking at least_, Shikamaru thought absentmindedly as he stared at the lightly breathing blonde that was currently using his toned body as a pillow. Her hair, which had been in an exotic style featuring four spiky ponytails the night before, was now a wrecked mess that was still somehow appearing alluring to the ANBU agent. Her green eyes were hidden from him, but he could easily remember them from the night before.

Continuing his inspection of the bombshell curled up again him, Shikamaru was able to determine that her clothing was _definitively_ gone; he could see the remains of her shirt laying by the door and what looked like half of a skirt hanging off one of the ceiling fan's faded paddles. Because of the lack of clothing, Shikamaru could see just _how_ fit she was and to his surprise he found she was covered in bruises and cuts. Looking down, he noticed he was similarly decorated.

Just what had happened last night? As if on cue, the events of the night before came rushing back and Shikamaru found out in, no pun intended, _explicit_ detail just what _had_ happened last night._ Just going to shove those memories aside for now_, Shikamaru thought mentally as he forcefully blocked the exact _images_ that were presenting themselves at that very moment into the back of his mind. Huh. He had no idea that a bed could support that kind of...

_ Focus!_ Shikamaru screamed mentally as he suddenly noticed the athletic body that was starting to wake up as well. _Crap!_

"Ugh," the blonde woman muttered as she held her head in her hands. Shikamaru, who had indulged _far_ more than he should have last night, could sympathize with her. "Where am I?" she muttered as her eyes opened and she caught sight of Shikamaru. Several emotions, not all of them friendly, flickered across her face in rapid order. Shikamaru barely caught them all, but between the fury and rage he saw briefly, he could determine that she wasn't about to complement his skills in the sack.

"_Fukuro wa misuborashi_!" the woman screamed and swung at Shikamaru with enough force that it left a hole in the wall where Shikamaru's head had just been. "What the-" she started to say, her eyes wide, only for Shikamaru—who had barely had enough time to duck—to spring up and tackle her to the ground. Screaming, the blonde brought her leg up and smashed Shikamaru's crotch with the same power that Tsunade delivered when she used the "Knee of A Thousand Deaths" on Jiraiya.

_Why?!_ Shikamaru thought bitterly as his world exploded in pain. Clutching his abused anatomy tenderly, Shikamaru fell off of the woman and felt her straddle his chest as he tried to roll away. Before Shikamaru could shove her off or react in any other fashion, the blonde had him pinned and was leveling an extremely sharp blade at his throat. Shikamaru was either in too much pain or too surprised to even wonder where the blade had come from. It was probably both.

"You have five seconds to tell me where my clothes are!" she roared at him and placed the blade, somehow, even closer to his throat for emphasis. Shikamaru, up to this point, had completely forgotten that the blonde woman on top of him was even naked. He was sure his father, should Shikamaru survive this incident and make it home alive, would never let him forget the fact that he had been straddled by a very _angry_, very _curvy_, and very much naked woman and had only thought about the shiny metal knife in her hand. "Eyes off!" the woman said upon noticing where he was staring and unconsciously moved her unarmed arm to cover her chest.

Moving quickly, Shikamaru took advantage of her momentarily displaced weight and distracted attention to flip the two of them over. Now on top, Shikamaru knocked the blade out of her hands and pinned her in a more effective hold while simultaneously picking up the blade. Holding it at a better angle, Shikamaru glared at her while gingerly planting the blade alongside _her_ throat. _Let's see how she likes it for a change_, he thought smugly.

"G-get off!" She shouted as she squirmed beneath him; unbeknownst to her, this provided _quite_ the view for Shikamaru, and well, he _was_ straddling her. _Freaking hormones!_ Shikamaru thought angrily as he placed the blade into her neck, causing a faint line of blood to form as the skin broke just _so_. As he expected, the woman froze and glared at him with such hate that he was momentarily frozen. Then he shrugged it off.

"Lady, if you want to go screw random guys, be my guest," Shikamaru said as he arrogantly eyed her body, which only fueled her wrathful death glare that was being leveled at his face. "But do _not_ kick a _man_ below the belt when _you_ wake up on the wrong side of the bed."

Whether it was his sarcasm, his open ogling, or she just didn't care about her own life, the woman ignored the blade that was being held against her throat and tried to punch Shikamaru. The ANBU agent, however, saw her untrained attack this time and easily blocked it with his free hand. "Look," Shikamaru said after she stared at him in shock of the second—or was it third?—time that day. "I really don't have anything against wrestling with a naked chick, but my balls hurt and I _need_ a smoke; so are you calm now or do I have to keep sitting on you?" Shikamaru asked with one brow raised up halfway. "Not that it isn't fun or anything," he added with a smirk.

The woman glared up at him and seemed completely bent on ripping his throat out with her bare teeth from the looks of it. However, Shikamaru could already see the tell tale signs of a battle raging within her—a battle between living and dying; a battle of getting what you wanted and dying or giving up and losing. He had seen it before, and it always ended with the same outcome. It took only a few more seconds, but Shikamaru saw her shoulders slump and her neck muscles relax as her head lowered fully to the floor.

"Just get off me," She complained softly as Shikamaru stood up and politely offered her his hand. The blonde stared at the offered hand with what seemed like complete surprise, Shikamaru almost wondered if she had ever been offered a helping hand before in her life—he immediately laughed at himself. This was Suna! They thrived on others' weaknesses, there was no helping one's neighbors here...

The almost child-like look of surprise vanished from her face so fast that Shikamaru wasn't completely sure it had ever even been there. It was instead replaced with a look of hard determination and anger—which Shikamaru was beginning to think must be her face's natural expression. The hand was ignored and the still very much naked Suna woman stood up and—after covering her private areas to the best of her ability—she faced the very much naked Konoha man. When she spoke it was like ice water from the northern mountains being poured over human skin. In winter. "Where. Are. My. Cloths."

Shikamaru subconsciously gulped and pointed at the roof. Wary at first, the woman tried to keep one eye on the strange man she had woken up with while also staring at the spot on the roof he was pointing at. Upon noticing the ceiling fan, her full attention was captured on what had once been her favorite black skirt hanging from one of the ancient paddles connected to the fan.

"_Naze chichi?!_" The woman said in aggravation while she angrily slammed her fist into the wall—this time she left a hole the size of Shikamaru's head.

"Not many people still speak the old tongue," Shikamaru commented softly as he watched her yank her fist from the wall. "I only know of six others besides yourself that even _know_ of it and only two of them speak it very well, and that's a generous statement," Shikamaru added as she glared at him.

"Are you trying to get me in bed again or something?" She snapped in an agitated voice as she tried to keep herself covered somewhat modestly. This was proving rather hard due to the fact that her clothing more resembled shredded paper than wearable fabric.

"Not really," Shikamaru said as he turned around, deciding the strange blonde woman had calmed down at long last. Walking over to the battered nightstand—which had taken even _more_ damage it seems from the previous nights' events—Shikamaru opened it and removed a packet of fresh cigarettes. Walking back around the bed, still stark naked and doing nothing to hide this fact, Shikamaru found his faded jeans, which were just as mauled as the woman's skirt, and recovered his still intact lighter. "Smoke?" he asked as he casually ripped the packet open and took out a pair of cigarettes.

The woman, who was apparently thinking about what to do about her current state of dress, glared at him but still accepted the offered cigarette. Shikamaru politely ignited the front end of the white stick of nicotine before sticking his own cigarette into his mouth and lighting it with the lighter. Taking a _long_ drag from the cigarette, Shikamaru let both the smoke and his stress out in one equally long breath.

"I'm going to get dressed," Shikamaru said after a few quite moments. The woman was standing on the bed, trying futility to grab her skirt while also maintaining and covering her dignity. "Feel free to leave as soon as possible," he said before walking casually into the bathroom and turning on the water. This time, he _waited_ for the water to cool down before stepping in.

The cool—but still warm—water helped soothe the raging hangover that Shikamaru had been ignoring. He was definitively hammered, but his father's patented "Mental Booze Block" technique was working wonders. He was going to have to thank his dad in person one day for teaching him that particular family move. It was doing _wonders_.

After liberally dousing himself in the cheap soap that the motel provided and using his own shampoo, Shikamaru exited the shower feeling a bit better. After combing his hair—and thanking every deity he knew of that no one was around to see it—Shikamaru pulled his hair up into his signature spiky ponytail before tying it off with a new hair tie. Apparently the old one had been destroyed...

_Really need to find a way to remove these images..._ Shikamaru thought as he exited the bathroom in a tightly wrapped towel as he headed across the bedroom towards his still somehow intact traveling pack for a pair of fresh clothes. _Though, not that bad...hmm...REALLY nice...yeah might keep these...WHAT THE!_ Shikamaru froze at the sight of the blonde woman laying contentedly on _his_ bed, wearing _his_ clothes, reading his one of _his_ books.

"I'm surprised your intelligent enough to read this stuff," she said calmly as she closed the book and placed it gently on the nightstand. "Now get dressed, we have places to go."

Still staring at her with a shocked expression, Shikamaru's mouth opened and closed as he tried to form words. Nothing came out and he noticed, to his surprise, that the blonde was on the verge of laughing at him. Before she could, he finally recovered form the shock. "What are you still doing here?" Shikamaru asked at last.

"Waiting on you," the woman said as she stood up and headed towards the bathroom. "Now seriously, hurry up and get dressed."

Shikamaru, caught between demanding an answer and getting dressed, watched her retreating back for a moment before shrugging and pulling on a pair of boxers and his favorite faded jeans, which were not as damaged as he had originally thought; only the front belt loops were torn and the rips weren't that bad—he would just leave those, they made the pants look better anyways.

After giving up on finding his old belt, Shikamaru dug through his pack and found a new one and slid it on. That done, he dug deeper into the pack and found deodorant and a black teeshirt. He had the shirt on and was just finishing spraying himself down with the can of deodorant when the woman returned form the bathroom.

"Old Spice?" She asked, both incredulous and curious as she stopped before him.

"Why are you wearing my clothes? Why are you even still here?" Shikamaru asked her once again as he tossed the can into his pack without looking.

"If you _remember_ anything from last night, then I'm pretty sure you can remember _RUINING MY CLOTHES_!" The woman said, her anger returning so fast that Shikamaru didn't even have time to properly appreciate the exact moment last night that she was referring to.

"So?" Shikamaru asked, not seeing how this was his problem. She had destroyed his hair tie, his belt, _and_ his shirt. A skirt, shirt, and a pair of tights shouldn't be held in a higher regard, in fact in his opinion they were even.

"I need more clothes!" the woman cried as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, go get some from your room," Shikamaru said as he eyed the clothing she was wearing at the moment. The gray dress shirt and boots fit her like social interaction fit Shikamaru—not at all. This was understandable due to their height and weight difference. Shikamaru had to have a hundred pounds and a good foot or so on the slightly smaller, but more ferocious woman.

Glaring at Shikamaru with the same hate filled glare she had used earlier—reminding him that she was still _very_ deadly when it came to angry knee strikes—the woman sighed before replying to his statement. "I don't...have a room," she said, gritting her teeth in what Shikamaru was sure was a painful manner.

"Oh..." Shikamaru said softly, remembering just _how_ he had found the blonde that particular morning. Of course she didn't have a room here, you didn't live where you worked and she was obviously a working girl. Or more specifically, a _pleasure_ girl.

"Don't look at me like that!" She snapped upon realizing the conclusion he was coming to. "I came here for a _drink_! Same as you!" she snapped with such anger and, to Shikamaru's surprise, hurt that the raven haired agent stared at her in surprise. "I didn't want to think about...to remember he...his...and that blasted..." the blonde started to mumble as she began to shake.

It would remain a mystery for the rest of his life, but somehow Shikamaru found himself holding the strange woman in his arms as she cried. The angry blonde and the lazy agent simply stood there, time seemed to freeze and all that existed was the two of them. Breath in. Breath out. Whimper. Breath in. Breath out. That was what constituted the unknown amount of time that Shikamaru first held Temari No Sabaku.

* * *

Shikamaru wasn't quite sure how he had ended up walking through the now bustling streets of Suna with the mysterious blonde woman—who had revealed her name to be Temari. All he did know was that it felt _right_. And in his line of business, that was a rare and unexplored emotion better left in the grave that every member of ANBU put it in when they joined the organization.

"So where are you from?" Temari asked him as she walked by his side. She had seemed—calmer wasn't the right word—more pacified after her meltdown. She wasn't completely bent on killing him now, which was an improvement over the past two hours.

"Mochi," Shikamaru responded as they passed an assortment of shops and dining establishments. They had been searching—for what seemed like forever—for a store that Temari apparently knew about that still sold her "preferred" type of clothing. When Shikamaru had simply told her to keep his clothes and go home, Temari had explained in great detail what Shikamaru could go do if he really thought she would go home in her current state of dress. Apparently her "family" would ask questions about why she was wearing a man's clothes instead of her standard dark shirt and skirt. "From the Land of Earth."

"I'm aware where Mochi is!" Temari snapped, then her features softened, if only slightly. "Sorry," she said softly as she looked away from his surprised face.

"Don't worry about it," Shikamaru said as they _finally_ found a large tent set up in some dark corner of the farthest marketplace from Shikamaru's motel room. Alarm bells were ringing, but Shikamaru had been stubbornly ignoring the bells ever since waking up this morning, so what could possibly go wrong. As if he had been asking for it—and honestly he probably had—something did indeed go wrong.

"Finally!" Temari said in content and headed towards the tent, dragging a wary Shikamaru with her by the hand. Before he could even contemplate the electric feeling that radiated out upon making contact with her warm hands, Shikamaru felt the alarm bells turn into sirens.

"Move!" he barked at her and yanked her away from the shop. A second later and the entire section of the marketplace exploded with activity as men in sand colored robes came crashing after them.

"What are you-" Temari started to say, only for Shikamaru to force her into an alleyway as the men gained on them. "Stop!" she cried out in frustration—Shikamaru almost listened to her. Then the gun shots started flying. "Stop!" Temari cried again, but this time it wasn't just at him, it was at the men chasing them.

"I don't think their going to oblige," Shikamaru said to her as he continued to drag her with him down the maze of alleys. Reaching into his jacket, Shikamaru pulled his sidearm out and cocked it before firing over his shoulder. Without even looking he killed two of their pursuers and dropped a third. The other six understandably slowed down and took cover.

"Stop!" Temari roared, however Shikamaru ignored her as he led them up a flight of stairs. Once he reached the top, he thrusted her forward and turned to face the thugs chasing them.

"Run!" he snapped at her and fired off the rest of the side arm's magazine. The little pistol's slugs hit true to their mark and three of the remaining pursuers fell with a thud onto the sand covered floor of the alley below with red circles adorning the center of their foreheads. Shikamaru head someone's foot crunch behind him and Temari yell loudly; he tried to turn around, however his skull exploded with fiery pain as something connected with a loud smack.

He was out cold before he had even hit the bottom of the stairs.

* * *

**Well that was a bit longer than I expected it to be. Let me know what you think in a review. Personally I think it was a bit off, but I'll leave that up to you all. While i'm thinking about it, make sure to subscribe to the Facebook and Blog!**

**Have an awesome Christmas tomorrow!**


	4. Episode IV: Interrogation

_Episode 4: Interrogation_

"Good morning," someone said as Shikamaru came to. A mere second after the words registered in the ANBU agent's mind a fist hit him in the stomach. Coughing over the sudden pain that had decided to occupy his body only a few seconds after waking, Shikamaru opened his eyes and took in the room around him.

It was a simple square room—though he could only see three of the four walls in the room, there was no telling what was behind him—with gray walls that had the faintest outlines of dried blood. Past occupants, Shikamaru guessed as he took in the rest of the room.

There was a metal door before him with a large locking mechanism and no window. There was a metal bench that ran the entirety of the front wall that was extremely low to the ground. More of a footrest than a bench. A single light hung over the entire room and it flickered every few seconds; the entire room breathed cheap and easily—and possibly _constantly—_repaired.

After he had taken in the scenery around him—all in about two seconds—Shikamaru examined the man in the black robes that stood before him.

His brown hair was ruffled and spiky; it seemed to ooze wild and crazy at the exact same time. His face was pale—disturbingly similar to Temari's own complexion—and it was covered in purple face paint that formed a triangular design that would have probably intimidated a lesser man. Shikamaru rolled his eyes.

The man's outfit was the same exact set up; all designed towards intimidation rather than comfort. There was no way the man before him could be comfortable in the pure black robes that covered his body. The cat ears were a bit of a through off though; why in the world he was wearing _those_ was beyond even Shikamaru's educated guesses.

"Nice of you to finally wake up," the man said as he walked around behind Shikamaru and swung his first into the back of Shikamaru's head. The Konoha operative felt his world spin as stars exploded before his vision.

"Where's Temari?" Shikamaru demanded as he regained what he could of his bearings. That punch had _hurt_. The man's face darkened as his features crinkled in anger; it was awhile before he stopped hitting Shikamaru.

"Having fun yet?" The black clothed man asked—Shikamaru was almost sure he had been drinking by the smell of wine on his breath.

_ "_Plenty_Ningyōtsukai_" Shikamaru spat as blood dripped from his mouth and the sides of his head. The brown haired man had _not_ been gentle with the ANBU operative. Shikamaru watched the man before him freeze—though only slightly—for a brief moment before he backhanded Shikamaru.

"So you _do_ know the ancient tongue..." the man muttered softly as he eyed Shikamaru critically. "I guess that's why she-" the man started to add, only to be cut off by a brief—very deadly—cough. Pausing, the brown haired interrogator glanced behind Shikamaru before gulping as his eyes went wide. Without a word the man turned and opened the metal cell door and left. The door locked behind him.

Shikamaru sat in his metal chair—which was reinforced with metal chains _and_ handcuffs to keep him restrained—for several minutes as the silence grew deafening. The entire time he was wondering who had sent the brown haired man away and _why_ the mysterious man had yet to talk to Shikamaru.

"I hope Kankuro did not hurt you too much," an icy calm voice whispered _right next to his ear_.

Shikamaru, despite his _many_ years as an ANBU operative and as a generally well disciplined—if poorly lacking in motivation—man, completely forgot all of his training—not an easy feat to accomplish in his case—and jumped right out of his skin. The tight metal restraints and heavy metal chair that was bolted to the floor kept him from going anywhere, but his obvious surprise caused the entity that was _just_ outside of Shikamaru's vision to chuckle.

"I would like to ask you a few questions," the voice said as it's owner came into Shikamaru's view. Just as he had done with the brown haired man, Shikamaru took in his opponent in quick, rapid fire glances. He was shorter than the average Sunan—though there was nothing to indicate he was Sunan—with hair the same color as fresh blood. He had fair skin—another rarity that indicated he was not a native of the Wind country—and piercing green eyes.

His features seemed flawless; he did not have a single scar or even so much as a pimple decorating his smooth skin with the exception of a single kanji tattoo that was as red as his hair.. The only thing that was abnormal about him—besides the rare eye color, skin color, and hair color—was his lack of eyebrows; instead the area around his eyes were heavily caked in black tanuki styled eyeliner. Combining his physical appearance with his intimidating presence and Shikamaru could all but see "criminal mastermind" being written all over the man's files back in Konoha's intelligence department. Assuming they even _had_ a file on him anyways.

"I want to know one simple thing," the red haired man said as he reached into his jacket. Shikamaru braced himself for some sort of torture device or weapon; however, nothing of the sort appeared from within the man's jacket. It was a set of keys.

The man took the keys and calmly unlocked Shikamaru's metal handcuffs and the rest of his restraints before turning around and sitting down in a chair that had mysteriously appeared while Shikamaru was distracted with his restraints being removed. Seeing Shikamaru's expression, the man offered a mirthless chuckle.

"I know _far_ too well what it is like to be locked up," the man said as he continued to stare at Shikamaru. "And I know _far_ too _little_ about you," he added as if just thinking of it. A short silence filled the room as the two men stared at each other; Shikamaru was weighing his chances of escaping and the other man seemed for all the world simply intent on staring into Shikamaru's narrow brown eyes.

"You won't escape," the man assured Shikamaru, causing the agent to jump slightly. He hadn't even been staring at the door! How had he-

"Why did you sleep with the women that was with you?" The red haired man asked at last as he leaned forward only slightly as he stared intently at Shikamaru's face. He wasn't disappointed with a expressionless mask. He rarely was.

Shock, confusion, surprise, anger, and rage flashed across Shikamaru's face and he nearly lunged out of his seat. Barely keeping his calm, he answered the question with a curt response; biting off every word.

"What business is it to you?"

The man smirked slightly, "_everything_ is my business," he informed Shikamaru. "_Especially_ _Temari's_," he added with a pointed look at Shikamaru.

"Who are you?" Shikamaru demanded as he glared at the man. "Is she your wife or something?"

"If it were _that_ simple, I would have killed you already," the man said simply as he leaned back into his seat. "I am waiting."

Shikamaru stared into the teal eyes for a moment; only to give up once he realized it was like staring into a thunderstorm. It was impossible after a few seconds, the calm intensity within was simply too strong to behold for too long.

"I was drunk," Shikamaru admitted as he answered the man's question after another short moment of silence. The red haired man did not react in any way other than to raise a single non-existent eyebrow. "She was too," Shikamaru added.

"Where are you from Shikamaru," the man asked quietly; he did not even pause over the foreign name. He seemed incapable of such a simple thing as making a mere mistake or error. Judging from what he had gleamed from the conversation so far, Shikamaru was convinced the red haired man had never even been told "no" more than once in his life.

"Mochi," Shikamaru stated calmly as he let his double life take over. "I'm here looking for work, _not_ trouble."

The red haired man smirked again, "you posses the most terrible or most spectacular luck I have witnessed," he said before standing up and walking over to the door. "Please don't try to escape Mr. Shikamaru, I would _hate_ to have to return your corpse to Konoha, it would be _terribly_ inconvenient," he said before leaving Shikamaru—who had frozen solid with ice cold terror—in his cell and locking the door behind him.

* * *

"You had better let him go Gaara!" Temari snapped after Gaara—once again—denied the possibility of releasing her current lover from the dungeon. Gaara merely continued to write on a document that sat on his desk. Kankuro stared at his older sister with such profound shock that she was worried he might collapse from a heart attack.

"You seem to care an awful lot about this man from Konoha," Gaara stated calmly—though his voice was laced with ice—as he signed off on the document and placed it on a stack sitting on one corner of his desk. He then proceeded to pull another from a separate stack before opening it and writing on it as he read just as he had done with the last five.

"He's from Mochi!" She stated in exasperation as she placed her hands on either side of the document, forcing Gaara to stare up at her. "You're _going_ to release him," she stated with iron solid determination.

Gaara's mouth turned into a hard line before he closed the document he had been reading and placed it back on the stack it had come from originally. He then picked up the stack of completed documents and gestured for Kankuro to come closer.

"Please deliver these for me," Gaara said with the same calm tone, though his eyes raged. Kankuro sheepishly took the files before all but bolting form the room like a startled baby pup caught in the trash. As soon as the door shut Gaara stood up and walked around his desk towards Temari. Despite her inner anger and self-righteous determination to free Shikamaru, she backed up slightly as he approached. It wasn't fast enough.

SMACK!

Gaara stared at her coldly as she held her bright red cheek. "_Why_," he demanded as he clenched his fists. "_Why_," he repeated as she stared at him in shock. He hadn't hit her. _Ever_.

"I-I..." Temari started to say, only her words failed her; she was still in shock from the hit.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Gaara calmly lowered his hand—which was growing red—back to his side as he stared at her quivering lips. "I do not like doing this," Gaara said quietly as Temari shook violently. "Please answ-"

"SHUT UP!" Temari roared, causing Gaara's face to flash in surprise for the barest moment. "Just shut up!" she cried as she shook even harder.

"Te-" Gaara started to say, only for the women in question to fling a fist—not a lady-like slap but a fist—at his forehead. As he had done since his early childhood, Gaara easily blocked the attack and calmly punched her back. It was automatic, but it still hurt her to know he would hit her. _Really_ hit her.

"Why are you doing this?" Gaara asked as he crouched down to stare at her as he rocked on his heels. "You have never defied me before."

"I...I..." Temari started to say, only to shake violently as she stared at Gaara desperately. It threw the man for a loop as he wondered just _what_ was wrong with his sister. She had ran off after Yashamaru's death and returned in the custody of his guards after being seen with a man—a foreigner—that one of his barkeeps had informed him was sharing Temari's bed.

Temari seemed to come to some sort of resolution and finally answered his long sought answer. He had demanded it the second after she had refused to allow Gaara to kill him—she had never done such a thing with any of her past lovers. The answer she gave was not the answer Gaara wanted to hear however.

"I love him,"


	5. Episode V: A New Boss

_**A/N: Sorry it has taken SO long to update this thing, but I'm doing it now! The only thing I really want to say is that I am sorry for how awkwardly Temari declared her love for Shikamaru and that I hope this chapter will better explain her reasons for doing so. Enjoy!**_

* * *

_Episode 5: A New Boss_

"You love him?" Gaara asked, his voice tight and icy as he narrowed his emerald eyes down at her.

"Yes," Temari said softly, though she herself was wondering what had compelled her to say _that_ of all things to _Gaara_. He was probably the single worst person to ever even mention the _concept_ to, let alone the actual application in his older sister's social life.

"Why?" Gaara demanded as he stood up and walked away from her and towards the far wall of his office.

"I don't know."

"What?" Gaara all but shouted as he turned smoothly around so that he once again faced her with his piercing green eyes.

"I...I don't know," Temari admitted to her brother as she desperately sought that very answer within herself. She had slept with men longer than she had known Shikamaru's name, but none of them had ever warranted a second glance before Gaara had them shot out of hand.

Whenever she thought of pain, she thought of her father; whenever she thought of fear, she thought of Gaara; whenever she thought of stupidity she thought of Kankuro.

But whenever she thought of safety, she thought of Shikamaru.

Perhaps it had been the way he had held her and comforted her after she had broken down crying in his apartment back at the Golden Jewel. Maybe it had something to do with his nature, so completely opposite of her own. It could even have something to do with how he had mistakenly defended her from Gaara's goons.

It didn't matter what the _exact_ reason was. All that Temari cared about was that it felt _right_ to say that she loved him and that he mattered more to her than a simple stress reliever.

"You don't know?" Gaara questioned, now more curious than angry—that's how it was with him, he was completely unpredictable at times—as he calmly returned to his seat behind his massive wooden desk.

"I...I don't know exactly why..." Temari admitted as she slowly, gingerly, stood up off the floor of Gaara's office and went to stand before her brother's imposing desk. "But I do know that I love him..."

"You are merely confusing lust and wild passion for that made up term," Gaara informed her as he hit one of the numerous buttons attached to the underside of his desk. Moments later and Kankuro returned, this time looking a few healthier shades than he had ten minutes prior.

"I know what I'm feeling," Temari assured him and ignored her brother's confused glances as she charged onwards. "Gaara...if you don't release him, you'll never hear a word from me again."

Gaara, true to form, merely raised an eyebrow while Kankuro stared at her in open horror and awe as his jaw dropped open in shock. The redheaded mob boss simply locked eyes with his older sister and waited. As always, he won.

Unable to keep her youngest brother's electric stare, Temari lowered her head briefly and awaited Gaara's judgment. She didn't regret anything. Not a word. She had spoken every word truthfully and if she had been given a chance to do it all over, she wouldn't have taken a single word back.

Temari had no idea _why_ Shikamaru was having this effect on her, she only knew that he _was_ having an effect on her. She had never cared about _anyone_ but herself before she had met him and here she was going up against Gaara to secure his release. It made absolutely no sense.

_Love doesn't have to make sense Temari, that's what makes it love..._

Temari froze briefly as she recalled an all but forgotten memory of her mother. She was standing outside with a younger version of Temari—she had to have been only four or five—and the two were watching Temari's father duel with Yashamaru. The men were laughing and toying with the other as they merely enjoyed the physical workout of the duel while still hammering into each other with brutal blows.

Temari, or at least her younger self, had asked her mother why she loved her father if her father was such a violent man. Her mother had responded that love did not have to make sense. Temari had all but forgotten that response until that very moment in her life.

Well at least she could die happy. Sort of.

"Kankuro," Gaara said softly as his older brother finally returned to reality. "Please bring me our newly acquired guest."

Temari's head shot up in stunned shock while Kankuro's turned towards Gaara in silent horror. The redhead glared at the brunette to his left and Kankuro, terrified for his life, immediately exited Gaara's office once again. Before he could leave however, Gaara made another additional comment.

"Oh and Kankuro," Gaara called just before his older brother had left the office completely.

"Yes Gaara?"

"I want him here _unharmed_."

"Fine..."

* * *

Shikamaru was screwed. Utterly screwed.

He had been assigned to deep undercover operations before where there was always the chance of being captured and tortured. It had even happened to him a handful of times prior to his current incarceration. It was somewhat of an expected event for any ANBU agent worth their salt.

It was _not_ expected to be captured by the criminal mastermind and political prince of an entire nation and held hostage by him. It was _not_ apart of the standard protocol for said mastermind to figure out an agent's home nation—especially one as seasoned and careful as Shikamaru.

Everything could go very south very fast if Shikamaru didn't find a way out of the cell he was currently being kept in. As if some deity or another had seen fit to answer his absurd thought, the cell door opened and the brunette from before entered while being flanked by a pair of guards.

"Come with me," he grumbled, sounding somewhat defeated as he gestured at Shikamaru to follow him out of the cell. "If you resist I get to put the restraints back on you and rough you up before Gaara gets to see you," he added, sounding as if he sorely wanted such an event to happen. Shikamaru was not foolish enough to present him with such an opportunity and thus obeyed and followed him out of the cell peacefully.

The brunette, along with his guards, led Shikamaru through a twisting maze of tunnels and half-rooms before they stopped outside of a heavily guarded door. After passing though the door, the man and Shikamaru found themselves inside a spartan-like office.

"Temari!" Shikamaru shouted upon seeing the blonde sitting in the room, she appeared to be unharmed but there was a hint of fear in her eyes. Rather than move towards him or even acknowledge that he had entered the office, Temari lowered her head and stared at the floor below her.

"Please take a seat," Gaara said calmly as he eyed Shikamaru coolly, though it was obvious the calculating mastermind was sizing him up once more. Left with no other choice, Shikamaru conceded to the criminal's wishes and took a seat next to Temari before Gaara's desk.

"Temari has made a very convincing case in favor of letting you live," Gaara went on once Shikamaru was seated. The ANBU agent shot a quick glance of surprise at the blonde sitting to his left before returning his attention to Gaara.

"I have also heard from my men that you are quite the combatant," Gaara added before briefly pausing to allow Shikamaru to take everything he had said soak in. "Where do your allegiances lie?" Gaara demanded.

Shikamaru knew Gaara didn't buy his cover story—that he was a simple traveler from Mochi—and he had even somehow figured out where Shikamaru had come from. However, Shikamaru highly doubted that Gaara knew he was a member of the ANBU. If he had even suspected that, he would have executed Shikamaru on the spot. Therefore, he had to play a new angle.

A criminal angle.

"Whoever has the most money of course," Shikamaru said calmly, though he allowed a bit of his hate to seep into his eyes to make it clear that he wasn't a pushover.

Gaara smirked before nodding softly to himself. Three things immediately happened following his brief nod: Kankuro, standing behind Shikamaru, swore and hit the wall nearest to him so hard that it broke, Temari jumped onto Shikamaru in victory, and Gaara spoke in a dangerously serious voice.

"Don't become too attached to your pet Temari," Gaara warned as he gestured for them to leave his office. "The work I have in mind for him will not be _pleasant_."

"I never said I would work for you," Shikamaru reminded him while at the same time he felt Temari grip his shoulder painfully.

"That's because you never had a choice," Gaara countered before glaring at them all. Understanding the message immediately, his siblings rose and began to leave the office as if they had done this a hundred times before. Once they were gone, Gaara continued.

"What are your intentions towards Temari?" Gaara asked softly once he was sure he and Shikamaru were the only ones in his office.

"Wh-what?" Shikamaru asked, surprised.

"What," Gaara said, this time deliberately slower than before, "are. Your. Intentions. Towards. Temari."

"I...I don't know," Shikamaru said honestly as he looked just to the left of Gaara. It honestly was impossible to match that soulless gaze for more than a few minutes. "I just met her."

Gaara nodded in acceptance before he spoke in a more relaxed tone, "there is a shipment of imported goods that will be arriving in the city within a few days," Gaara began as he toyed with a document that sat before him on his imposing desk. "I need more men to bring it in after several were...indisposed," he added with a pointed glare at Shikamaru.

"I...see."

"Yes, I hope you do," Gaara said, "you will be filling the spaces you helped open up."

"What if I refuse?" Shikamaru asked, completely serious as he tried once again to match Gaara's piercing green eyes.

"Then Temari dies." Gaara said, his tone and stare leaving no doubt in Shikamaru's mind that Gaara would easily kill Temari if Shikamaru didn't cooperate.

_Crap..._


	6. Episode VI: Descending Into Hell

_Episode 6: Descending Into Hell_

The parking lot looked deserted to Shikamaru, but he supposed that was the point. He _was_ a cop after all. Well...sort of.

He was currently waiting with Gaara's goons—he had no better way to describe them—while awaiting the mysterious shipment that the crime lord had recently ordered. To pass the time, Shikamaru had done what any ANBU commando would have done. He took in the details around him.

From a tactical perspective, the parking lot was a nightmarish train wreck. There was absolutely no cover should they be fired upon from any of the countless rooftops encircled around them. The only thing that decorated the pitch black concrete of the parking lot besides said concrete was the van and truck that they had brought with them.

Around the parking lot there was a long string of hole-in-the-wall stores and broken down apartments. Ruined cars and trash covered the alleyways and streets on this particular side of Suna. It reminded Shikamaru of the rougher side of Konoha, but worse.

"Where is this shipment anyways?" He said at last, angry at himself for thinking of home while away on a mission. What was he, a five year old?

"Don't get your thong in a wad fruit head," the sandy haired gang leader spat at him as he rested contently in the bed of the truck. The man had his automatic laying across his thighs while his face was covered by a cloth cap that had been pulled down while he dozed. "It'll be along sooner or later."

"Ah lay off 'em Shaik," one of the other thugs said in a teasing manner, "poor guys just anxious to get back and bang his girlfriend."

Shikamaru leveled a calm, yet furious, stare at the thug. The man did not outright show his terror, but years of undercover work allowed Shikamaru to see that he was trembling faintly. "I'll be sure to pass that along to Gaara," he informed him.

The man turned deathly white, "NO!" He cried out, forgetting that they were supposed to be quiet as he lunged forward and grabbed Shikamaru by the collar of his jacket. "Come on man, it was just a _joke_! Don't tell _him_!"

Shikamaru stared past the man's eyes and into the depths of his very soul as he appeared to contemplate the pros and cons of informing Gaara about the thug's snide—and crude—comment. "Gotcha," he said as he allowed a gigantic smirk to spread across his face while the thug all but had a heart attack.

"Thats not funny!" He complained while two of the other thugs with the group began howling with laughter at the practical joke.

"Shut it! All of ya!" Shaik barked without looking up or moving his cap an inch. "You want to explain to the boss why the shipment didn't show up because we scared 'em off?" He waited for an answer and was pleased when he received none. "Good," and with that he went back to dozing in the truck bed.

Shikamaru was not fazed by the man's outburst or threat like the rest of the thugs were and instead merely continued to smirk at the man he had pranked. After things had grown quiet again, Shikamaru began to grow bored once more and decided to go back to surveying his surroundings, only this time he focused on the group of thugs rather than his surroundings.

The battered, but useable, van sat just a few feet from them with the doors shut but the windows open as the smell of nicotine wafted out from the inside. There was a handful of Gaara's muscle sitting inside playing a seemingly endless game of poker while they awaited the shipment's arrival. Shikamaru was beginning to wonder if the game would end before the shipment arrived at this point.

The truck that Shaik was laying on was newer and significantly sleeker, but it still showed signs of wear and tear—along with the occasional bullet hole that had been patched. There was a single thug asleep in the front, then Shaik in the truck bed, and finally the three remaining thugs and Shikamaru standing out in the cold.

That surprised Shikamaru more than anything. He had not expected Suna to be cold, but it was already getting chilly and the sun had set only a few hours prior. He _really_ wanted that shipment to show up already. His cigarettes would only last for so long.

"So what's your story?" The thug that Shikamaru had scared asked. The man seemed genuinely curious rather than snoopy—though Shikamaru was sure Gaara would have picked someone, _anyone_, else to try and weed information out of him.

"I grew up around Mochi," Shikamaru said, sticking with his original cover story for the most part. "I never really cared to know my parents—way to uptight—and eventually I just got tired of it all and left," he explained as the other two thugs—and possibly Shaik—began to listen in curiously. "After awhile I just ended up smuggling stuff around and doing a little of this and a little of that," he explained as his audience nodded in understanding. "To make a short story shorter, I wound up here and Gaara hired me because he needed some extra muscle."

"Yeah, but your sleeping with the bosses sister..." one of the other thugs said as he jumped into the conversation.

"Yeah, how'd that happen?"

"What business is it to you?" Shikamaru asked icily. He had no problem sharing fake details about his equally fake background. He _did_ have a problem with sharing facts about actual events.

"Can it, the trucks here," Shaik said suddenly as he hopped off the truck bed and walked towards the van. "Trucks here," he informed the thugs inside.

Shikamaru checked to make sure his semi-automatic rifle was in working order while also taking the time to ensure that the safety was off and a round was primed while he watched the rest of Gaara's henchmen pile out into the parking lot.

A few tense moments went by as the large truck backed up towards the two other vehicles, however, it was proven to be just paranoia on Shikamaru's part as the driver climbed out and nodded at Shaik.

"Make it quick."

The gang of criminals moved silently and swiftly—they were in work mode now—as they unlocked the latch on the back of the truck's cargo hatch. Lifting it up, they found a number of medium sized boxes inside lined up neatly along either side of the walls.

"Crow bar," Shaik called and waited while a goon retrieved one for him. Once he had the desired item in hand, he used it to carefully remove the top of one of the crates so that he could check the contents inside. Nodding in satisfaction, Shaik handed the crow bar back to the thug that had given it to him. "Get this stuff into the cars," he ordered before hopping out and heading towards the driver's compartment.

Shikamaru, though assigned as a bodyguard of sorts, quickly found himself manhandling the crates with several other goons as they offloaded the boxes from the truck. Once the cargo was offloaded and the driver had been paid, the transport truck left without another word to them. That was fine with Shikamaru.

It only took a couple minutes to load the crates into the van and the truck and a couple minutes more to load all of the muscle into the cars. Once everything had been taken care of, they drove off and headed back for Gaara's headquarters.

The deserted parking lot went right back to being a deserted parking lot and nobody was the wiser.

* * *

"How did it go?" Temari asked as Shikamaru unlocked the door to his temporary room and walked in.

The room was simple, which suited Shikamaru perfectly. It was only a single room, with a comfortable enough bed against the far wall, a mirror to the left side, an empty drawer to the right, and a door that led into a small shower beside it. Flanking the bed on both sides were two small tables, each adorned with soft sandy colored lamps.

"What are you doing in here?" Shikamaru asked calmly as he walked past her and placed the rifle by the bed. That done, he began to remove the jacket and long shirt he had been wearing in a vain effort to stay warm while Temari watched him.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh," Shikamaru said before he sat down on the edge of his bed and began to work on his boots.

"Gaara thinks I'm sleeping with you."

"Technically, you _did_ sleep with me," Shikamaru replied wryly as he forced the—admittedly pleasurable—images of their one night together from his mind.

"Look...I'm not good at..." Temari apparently paused as she struggled with something before finally swearing under her breath. Before Shikamaru could respond, the blonde was straddling him—his boots now _completely_ forgotten—as she kissed him viscously.

Shikamaru, somewhat surprised, but not in the least upset, responded warmly to her advance and snaked a hand around her waist while the other went to her hair. Temari responded by placing both of her arms around Shikamaru's neck and deepening the kiss while simultaneously slipping her tongue into his mouth as she began grinding against him.

They remained like that, hot and needy as they made out, for a good long while before finally breaking for air. But only barely.

"I take that to mean you want to make it more than technical?" Shikamaru said with his trade-mark smirk.

Temari wanted to slap him for that. Or maybe just screw him. Either one seemed like a good idea right now.

"I put my life on the line for you, I think I deserve _some_ form of reward," She breathed hotly into his ear while messing with the front of his short sleeve undershirt.

"True, I suppose," Shikamaru said as he kissed her once again. Their passionate night together had been mind blowing when he had been drunk. Now that he was sober, he could appreciate it in its entirety. And there was a _lot_ to appreciate.

"Stop trying to take over, I'm in control here," Temari warned him as she began to remove her top. Once the clothing item had left her head however, she found herself on her back with Shikamaru ravishing her freshly revealed skin from above with his tongue. "S-Shikamaru!"

A woman shouldn't taste this good, Shikamaru decided as he licked and kissed his way across Temari's abdomen and the area just under her still covered breasts. It should be illegal, he found himself thinking.

He had never been happier to be a criminal.

* * *

"We are _definitely_ doing that again," Shikamaru said calmly as he lit a pair of smokes for them while they lay tangled in his bed. Taking one of the now lit cigarettes from his mouth, Shikamaru handed his lover her own nicotine filled tube.

"No," Temari said firmly as her green eyes met his brown ones. "Honestly Shika? What _was_ it with you and that shower?" She demanded as she thought of the _multiple—_not single—adventures they had made into his private shower.

"I like you wet," Shikamaru said with a teasing smirk. The blonde glared at him before she found herself giggling softly at the horrible joke.

"You know," she said softly as she curled closer to him after she had finally stopped giggling, "I've never really done this with a guy before."

Shikamaru, cigarette halfway in his mouth, froze abruptly as he slowly looked down at her luscious form plastered against him. "W-what?"

Temari blushed slightly, but it quickly changed to a glare, "you make me blush to much," she complained before she hit him in the arm roughly.

"What was that for?!" Shikamaru exclaimed, not really hurt, but definitely surprised as he rubbed his arm.

"Making me blush," Temari replied simply as she cuddled closer. Shikamaru suddenly found himself okay with whatever it was she had just done to him.

"Wait," Shikamaru said, shaking his head before his thoughts went dirty...eh, _dirtier_, once again. "What did you mean by you've never done this before?"

Temari stared at him in confusion for a second before she immediately broke out laughing. Shikamaru, not finding it funny at all, continued to stare at her as he awaited his answer.

"I'm sorry," Temari said at last as she got the majority of her laughter under control. "I just realized how that came out and the conclusion you must have drawn...I found it cute," she said and he glared at her.

"I'm not _cute._"

"I know," Temari said, "but it pisses you off, so I'm going to use it as much as I can pineapple head."

"Troublesome woman..."

"What was that?" Temari asked sharply.

"Nothing," Shikamaru lied easily before he returned to his original objective. "So what did you mean before?"

"Oh, that," Temari said with a wave of her hand as if it were nothing of importance. "I normally don't stay with guys after sex," she admitted, "It's generally just screw and scramoo."

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow as he stared at her curiously. "What made me so different?" He asked, genuinely wanting to know the answer.

Temari bit her lip softly before she answered him, "do you really want to know?" She asked. Shikamaru nodded and in response she leaned up so that her mouth was hovering just over his ear, coating it in her hot, raspy breath.

"I can't walk."

Shikamaru suddenly found himself howling with laughter as Temari collapsed on top of him, also laughing. Neither knew why the joke was so funny, but both knew that it felt nice to genuinely laugh with someone else.

* * *

"This is bad," Kankuro said as he paced back and forth in Gaara's office. "This is _really_ bad."

"What are you rambling on about now?" Gaara complained as he looked up from the—seemingly endless—pile of paperwork he had to finish tonight.

"Temari!" Kankuro shouted as if it were obvious, only to cower in utter terror as Gaara raised a non-existent eyebrow at him. "Please don-"

"Just explain," Gaara said, not in the mood for another long and pathetic cry of "please don't kill me, I'll blahblahblahblah..."

"She really does like this guy," Kankuro said flatly.

"Love," Gaara corrected his brother. While he did not believe such a thing existed and he had no interest in pursuing such a made up and fake abnormality, Gaara was very big on punctuality. Temari wanted to call what she had for the scum love, so Gaara would humor her and play along.

"It's not love!" Kankuro screamed, sounding more like a little girl than the brother of Suna's top criminal mastermind. Though to be honest Temari had always said the feminine genes had ended up somewhere inside Kankuro's cells...

"Whatever it is, she'll outgrow it. Just like all the others," Gaara said confidently as he signed a document before placing it on the ever growing stack of "completed" files.

"No," Kankuro went on, "She _never_ lasts more than a night with a guy," he said as if it were a crucial piece of evidence to the made up mystery he was vainly trying to solve. Gaara almost felt bad for him, but he had paperwork to attend to instead.

"It will fade in time," Gaara said once more, his tone indicating that the conversation was closed for the time being.

Kankuro merely snorted in disgust before taking the stack of completed files that Gaara had sent for him for. Leaving the office, Kankuro headed through the mansion towards the couriers office. As he went, he passed through the guest quarters—completely by accident he assured himself—and just so happened to take his time passing the door that led into Shikamaru's room.

"YESSSSS!" A feminine voice cried out in ecstasy.

Well...that was enough snooping for one day.

Kankuro hurried out of the guest wing as fast as he could to escape the horrifying sounds that were assaulting his ears. However, he was not fast enough to escape the sound of something wooden—and most likely expensive—breaking.

Kankuro felt like he was going to throw up as he burst into the nice, putrid, free of Temari and Shikamaru air of late evening Suna.

He would never be able to walk through that wing again. Ever.

* * *

_**I am evil, I'm aware. I hope you enjoyed this update. Keep on checking in for anything over the next week or so and leave me a review!**_

_**Lostsword**_


	7. Episode VII: Suspicions

Chapter 7: Suspicions

He knew something was up even before he had been called in. There was just something in the air that told him the crap was about to hit the fan. He didn't like that.

Especially since it concerned a friend of his.

"Welcome agent Uzumaki," Tsunade said with strict formality as she folded her hands before her on her desk. "Please take a seat."

Naruto gulped and did as he was told; he pulled the wooden chair before the Hokage's desk backwards and slid into it before scooting back towards the deadly woman. Tsunade stared at him silently for several minutes, her eyes calculating something, before she sighed and placed a folder before Naruto.

"Open the file," she said softly, just a faint trace of concern filtering through her emotional defenses for a brief moment before she returned to her cold, formal persona. Naruto didn't know what scared him more, her odd behavior or the name printed on the folder's label.

"At great risk to his own personal safety," Tsunade began as Naruto—in a rare display of professionalism—quickly scanned through the mission file. "Agent Nara agreed to be inserted undercover into the Nation of Sand's capital city in order to discover and report back on the origins of a powerful hallucinogenic drug known as 'Desert Flower.'"

Tsunade paused briefly as she waited for Naruto to look back up from the mission documents and information collected by Shikamaru before he had left for Suna. There were several samples of Desert Flower, a collection of statements gathered by a drug dealer by the name of Gan Maniaka, and Shikamaru's own personal thoughts.

Once Naruto had read through it all, Tsunade continued.

"With the exception of a single brief report, Agent Nara has remained in the dark from even our extensive sources," Tsunade said before she reached into a drawer in her desk and placed a photograph before Naruto. "This was taken two days ago."

It was a picture of Shikamaru and a beautiful blonde haired girl sitting at an upper class restaurant. They were sharing a table on the second floor with a pair of men, both were in suits and one of them—most likely the leader—had a startling head of blood red hair.

Shikamaru and the girl—forever frozen in place by the picture—were laughing at the brunette sitting beside the redhead. The man's shirt had a large—fresh—wine stain that had obviously been engineered by Shikamaru.

The red haired man remained impassive and instead appeared to be focusing on the expensive menu laying on the table before him.

"What do you see, Agent Uzumaki?" Tsunade said dispassionately as she too gazed at the photograph. "Regulations require me to remind you that you are loyal to the state and _not_ any friendship you may or may not have with Agent Nara."

Naruto stiffened at the offhanded insult before he replied as truthfully as he could. "It looks like Agent Nara has successfully imbedded himself into the enemy's ranks."

Tsunade let out a shaky breath before nodding in silent agreement as she reached under her desk. "Good," she said as a bottle of sake appeared as if by magic, "I was terrified you would agree with Morino and accuse Shika of treachery."

Naruto stared at his boss—and to some degree, adoptive mother—in complete shock while she took a healthy pull from her bottle. Sending the now empty bottle to the floor in a graceless toss, Tsunade was already reaching for a second one by the time Naruto recovered.

"T-treachery?" Naruto said, stunned at the implications of such a statement.

"Ibiki can be a bit of a paranoid old man at times," Tsunade said softly as she reached for her third bottle while the second found its way to the floor just like the first, "but it's for good reason."

Naruto remained silent as Tsunade went through another three bottles of sake. Her blatant disregard for her own health would have concerned Naruto if he hadn't known that she was the best healer in all of Konoha...or the world.

"We're inserting you in as backup," Tsunade said after she had finished her most recent bottle. She let the empty container crash onto the floor, adding to the sizable collection accumulating there already. "You are to observe Shikamaru only, you are _not_, under _any_ circumstances, allowed to make contact with Agent Nara."

"You want me to spy on Shik-" Naruto paused mid-sentence as Tsunade sent a glare his way, "-Agent Nara?"

"Is that what you believe you are doing?" Tsunade asked softly as she reached for another bottle of sake, only to shake her head and pull her hand back.

"It sure sounds like it to me."

"Same here..." Tsunade said before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. After a moment of tense silence, she opened her eyes once more and spoke.

"Agent Uzumaki," Tsunade said, her formal tone returning, "you are hereby assigned to track, observe, and report back on Agent Nara," as she spoke, she handed Naruto a new document file. This one had his name on it and it required his signature at the bottom of the opening page. "This mission is classified and designated as an S-rank assignment. You have the option to refuse it if you believe yourself incapable of carrying it out to the letter."

Naruto stared into her eyes calmly as he picked up the pen attached to the document.

"I accept."

* * *

"Morning sleepy head."

Shikamaru woke up yet again to find himself in Hell. Contrary to what he had always assumed it would look like, Hell was even more beautiful than any image the ANBU agent had ever conjured up of Heaven. It was almost ironic really.

Shikamaru had long since left his guest quarters—at the almost _animalistic_ urgings of Temari—and instead he now resided within his lover's _far_ superior chambers.

Temari's private rooms sat on the top floor of Gaara's private retreat in Suna's Northern District—an area solely dedicated to housing and entertaining the Nation of Sand's rich upper class. There was a small receiving room directly past the front door, along with a small library—Shikamaru and Temari had spent _days_ pouring through the material housed inside it while playfully arguing over their conflicting views—and a guest room.

Beyond the more public section of her apartments was, obviously, the more private and intimate section of Temari's humble abode. A living room, dining room, and kitchen all shared a decently sized space between the front of her apartments and her bedroom. A number of different length flat screens were connected to various surfaces in those three semi-independent rooms, along with stereos and other electronics that failed to interest neither Temari nor Shikamaru.

Her bedroom itself was easily the single largest space in all of her apartments, but every inch of space was utilized. An extensive home gym had been set up in one corner of the room, while her equally extensive collection of fans took up another. Her bed—a massive concoction of thick mattresses and silky sheets—sat in the far left corner and a metal desk with three monitors and several hard drives underneath took up the far right corner.

Between the weight set and the computer setup was a door that led into Temari's massive bathroom, complete with a huge shower and bath combo and a gigantic walk in closet. Across from the door, the entire left wall of the bedroom had been replaced by a floor to ceiling glass window with a sliding door. The window was currently covered by a thick curtain, but on the other side of the glass there was a small balcony that provided a wonderful view of all of Suna.

SMACK!

"Dang it woman!" Shikamaru cried as he was pulled out of his thoughts.

"If you're gonna stare at my body all day, you might as well do something about it," Temari replied suggestively as she scooted closer to Shikamaru. This was a considerable feat due to the fact that they had already been plastered together under the silky sheets of her much abused bed.

Shikamaru, having not even thought about the body that he had oh so greedily been indulging in over the past few weeks, quickly made amends to that notion by "doing something about it" for the next several hours.

"One day I'd like to actually eat breakfast with my family," Temari croaked out as she slid off Shikamaru's sweaty body before curling up against him.

"But Kankuro's such a messy eater," Shikamaru teased before his lover swatted at him playfully.

"They're still my family," Temari said, only to become confused by the look in Shikamaru's eyes. "What?" She asked as she peered into his brown eyes.

_"They're still my family..."_

What the heck was he going to do? He couldn't hurt this woman...he simply couldn't. Yet, Shikamaru had an obligation, a sworn duty, to bring Gaara and his cohorts down. But that would unavoidably destroy his relationship with Temari.

_"I love you Shika..."_

Dang it.

"Shikamaru!" Temari barked at him, concern evident on her face as he refused to answer her. "Stop it! Answer me!"

Shikamaru, suddenly returning to reality, shook his head before speaking. "Sorry, I was just...thinking."

Temari glared at him, though there wasn't any anger behind her eyes, merely confusion and hurt. "You've been '_just thinking_' for the past week and a half," she complained as she sat up—she made no move to cover herself as the purple sheets fell off her form—and faced her lover. "What's the matter with you?"

Shikamaru sighed. He couldn't explain it to her. He had told her a great many things about his life—nothing about his real job or where he truly lived—but he had confided in her and revealed a number of truths that very few people knew about him. He truly trusted the blonde.

But he couldn't trust her with this.

"I'm fine."

Tearmi's hurt eyes became slits as she scowled at him. "Fine, be a jerk about it," she muttered before getting out of the bed. She immediately stormed off towards the bathroom and made a point to slam the door as hard as she could behind her.

Shikamaru lit a cigarette.

* * *

"I'm telling you," Kankuro said once again to his brother as he paced before him, "that guy is up to no good."

"Really now?" Gaara remarked dryly as he contemplated the repercussions of killing his older brother. He quickly decided it wasn't worth his effort or his time. Plus he liked sending Kankuro off to deliver paperwork from time to time.

"In _our_ line of work?" He continued while he smirked at Kankuro's stunned—and slightly embarrassed—face before continuing. "I would have never guessed..."

"T-that's not what I meant and you know it!" Kankuro said, only fall silent as Gaara glared at him.

If only Temari could have remained so easily pacifiable.

While Gaara had come to greatly appreciate Shikamaru's assistance in his less than legal ventures, the crimelord had also come to greatly loathe the man. Temari, who before meeting the raven haired man had been completely submissive to her younger brother, was now all but rebelling against him and his strictly set rules.

The only reason he hadn't shot either of them was that—for the most part at least—they stayed out of his hair completely. Gaara did _not_ want to know _what_ exactly they did when they were staying out of his hair however. Just because he didn't have to sleep didn't mean he couldn't be haunted by mental scarring.

"Regardless of what you did or did not mean," Gaara said, "Shikamaru has been nothing but an exemplary employee."

"But he's _sleeping with Temari_!"

"And thankfully she hasn't seen fit to associate with any of those low life scumbags that previously shared her bed," Gaara remarked coolly as he re-read a document that had just arrived.

"Oh, don't take his side _too_!"

* * *

"Are you ready to talk to me now?" Temari asked as she slipped under Shikamaru's elbow and slid up into his arms. The two were currently standing out on Temari's balcony and staring out at the seemingly endless collection of stone houses within Suna's massive walls.

"Nothing to talk to you about," Shikamaru said calmly as he offered her his cigarette. She accepted it casually and took a long drag from the nicotine filled stick before handing it back to her lover.

"Shika," she said in a voice that begged him to be honest with her, "please don't shut me out."

Shikamaru closed his eyes and Temari initially thought he was going to ignore her until Shikamaru's shoulder's slumped and a soft swear slipped between his lips.

"I can't tell you."

Temari, sensing that this was the honest truth at long last, looked up at him. "Why? She asked, her curious, intelligence gathering nature in full overdrive as she felt Shikamaru give in.

"I can't tell you that either."

"Don't be coy," Temari said, her anger starting to return at his aloof and repetitive answer.

"I'm not trying to be coy, I just can't tell you," Shikamaru said before tossing his cigarette onto the balcony deck and grinding it into dust with his bare heel.

"Why?" Temari complained as she spun around and pressed her still slightly wet body against his chest. Shikamaru, though he didn't blush, reacted in _other_ ways as he felt every curve of her body through the _very_ thin towel wrapped around Temari's body.

"Just trust me, this isn't something you want to know about," Shikamaru said before leaning down and kissing her full on the lips.

Temari, deciding that she would rather screw Shikamaru than be given the silent treatment, returned the kiss with a heated passion that only she could invoke in him. Neither Shikamaru or Temari had ever been with a lover before that could awaken such primal, yet loving, desires for the other. It was surreal.

"I _just_ took a shower..." Temari lamented as she felt Shikamaru pull her back inside the bedroom.

"Don't worry, you're about to get another one," Shikamaru said slyly as the towel fell from Temari's lithe frame.


End file.
